


The Reunion

by TheScholarlyStrumpet (equipoise)



Series: Tumblr Follower Celebration Prompt-a-thon [7]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Prompt Verse, Tumblr Prompt, high school reunion fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 06:23:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4337339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equipoise/pseuds/TheScholarlyStrumpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anon Prompt on Tumblr: High School Reunion prompt: Mr. Gold wakes up in his motel room with a naked women next to him in his bed who he recognizes as his ex-student Belle French. Both are there to attend the High School Reunion Weekend.</p><p>(This is a prompt verse but I'm not currently accepting more 'til I write the ones I have.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Murtagh Gold did not want to be awake right now. His head felt like fine china that had been repeatedly cracked and repaired. His mouth tasted like last week’s bile. Waking up sounded like the worst possible thing he could do. But consciousness seemed to have other ideas. Grudgingly, he cracked one eye, then the other. Luckily, the curtains in the hotel room shut out most of the light.

He groaned and rolled over onto his back. The back of his hand brushed against something warm and soft. He blinked rapidly in the low light, just able to make out a shapely silhouette under the sheet next to him. Suddenly, he was very, very awake.

What the fuck had he gotten up to last night?

Murtagh was not generally a heavy drinker. But coming back to Storybrooke just had that effect on him, not to mention that he hated flying. He had wanted to turn down the invitation to speak at the 10 year reunion of Storybrooke High, but his son had managed to talk him into it.

An honor, Neal had called it.

Murtagh had finally agreed, since he had business in the next town over, anyway. Two birds, one stone. Didn’t stop him from downing every mini bottle the flight attendant put in front of him. He’d get in that evening, crash at the hotel. Business during the day, Reunion at night, and back on the plane by the next morning.

Murtagh took deep breath, trying to remember who the woman was in his bed. At least he was fairly certain it was a woman. He inched closer to see if her face was visible through her dark curtain of hair. She sighed in her sleep and shifted slightly. The blanket fell off of her shoulder, revealing a tattoo of an open book with words floating off of its pages.

The memories came flooding back.

He’d stopped in the hotel bar for a nightcap and noticed the tattoo on her shoulder. She’d smiled at his compliment and asked if she could join him. There was something so familiar about her, but he couldn’t place it.

He bought her a drink and they talked. She was lovely and bright. Even in his cups, she seemed to find him charming. He remembered her running her nails through his hair, at some point her hand had been on his knee. Sometime later, he had worked up the nerve to kiss her and somehow they had made their way to his room. Or perhaps it was her room. It was too dark to tell.

But he remembered that she had tasted of strawberries and felt like heaven in his arms.

Except for that awkward moment when he was trying to make sure she wasn’t a prostitute, he felt he had done rather well. The fresh scratches on his back indicated he had hopefully managed to make up for the prostitute thing.

The woman began to wake and he wondered if perhaps he ought to get up and get dressed, leave her in peace. But curiosity was eating away at him. If nothing else, he needed to know her name. So, he’d have at least that for the lonely nights ahead.

She rolled over, her eyes blinking slowly open. “Morning…”

His breath caught in his throat. She was stunningly beautiful, even half in shadow. He also realized why she had seemed so familiar before. He’d known her once before, 10 years ago.

When she’d been the star student of his English class.


	2. How to Lose a Girl in 10 Minutes or Less

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> endangeredslug asked:Are you still taking prompts?? Because the former teacher student one night stand must continue forever. Belle is upset when she finds out Gold didn't recognize her the night before.
> 
> Anonymous said:Can I prompt more of the High School Reunion verse? What happened after Belle woke up?

He was staring. He knew he was staring. It was getting uncomfortable but he couldn’t seem to stop.

Belle’s eyes shifted to one side and then back up to him. “Ok, I know I probably look like Alice Cooper with last night’s mascara everywhere but you could give a girl a complex looking at her like that….”

Murtagh shook himself out of it and looked away. “Sorry! No, you don’t look at all like this Cooper person – at least I don’t think so. Unless she’s…”  _exceptionally pretty? Heartbreakingly beautiful?_   _Deliciously desirable? Dear God am I in trouble…._ His voice had trailed off but Belle didn’t seem to notice. Instead she giggled softly and shook her head.

He was still searching for the most appropriate word choice when she pulled herself to sitting, the sheet pooling in her lap. Her arms stretched above her head and there he was, staring again, like a numptie.

Murtagh’s throat worked as he tried to tear his eyes away from her breasts. They were perky and firm, ending in perfect rosy little peaks. He could vaguely remember taking those in his mouth and the little mewling noises she made when he did so. He felt himself begin to lengthen and thicken beneath the sheet.

One of Belle’s eyebrows arched as she caught the direction of his gaze but there was a smile touching her lips. “Now there’s the look I don’t mind waking up to…”

Caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar, Murtagh flushed slightly and averted his gaze once more. Belle settled back into her pillows with a contented sigh. He envied her apparent lack of discomfort. But he supposed that was the advantage of being almost half his age. She could probably drink the bar clean and wake up fresh as a daisy.  _Oh, to be 20-something again…._

His head was still aching something fierce and the blood steadily pulsing to places below his belt was not helping matters. He ought to leave. Or ask her to, if this was his room. Lazing about in bed with a former student just seemed so… wrong… even if she had come there willingly the night before. They’d both had too much to drink; her judgment must have been impaired. His certainly had been if he hadn’t even recognized the girl who always sat at the front of his class with a gleam in her eye. Little Belle French (yes, he even remembered her name, now that he was thinking that far back) had been a bright, inquisitive child. In the two years he taught her, he barely had to touch her essays with a red pen.

He recalled her as a skinny slip of a thing with glasses and lank brown hair, loose sundresses hanging off of her frame, and braces on her teeth. That was not the case, these days, it seemed. She had more than filled out in the years since he had known her. Her hair was long and reddish brown, now, flowing in soft waves. The braces were gone and she must have gotten contacts.

The dress she wore at the bar last night had been anything but loose. It wasn’t obscene, but had given him an excellent preview of the delectable figure underneath. Other things were coming back to him, now. Pulling her zipper down to reveal the creamy skin of her back and the curve of her rear… Shaping her slender waist with his hands… The way her nipples grazed his chest when she was on top….

Christ, he was fully hard again. He needed to get out of this bed and out of this room before she came to her senses and realized what an enormous mistake they had just made.

“Hey… you still with me?” Belle leaned toward him.

“Yeah, just… still waking up.” How long had he been silent? What did she expect him to do, now? She didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave or….

_Was that her hand on his thigh?_

He shifted the blankets over his crotch, eyes darting about wildly until he recognized the luggage in the corner. His room then. Somehow that made things far, far worse. Not only was he a hideously disgusting old lecher who seduced former students, but now he was going to have to kick said student out of his room. He gently removed her hand from his thigh, though every bodily impulse was screaming to do otherwise. “Um, I really have to get my day started…”

“Oh.”

Murtagh wondered how anyone could weigh down one simple word with so much disappointment. “I’m… I’m sorry. It’s just…I have an appointment in town in about an hour and…” He gestured helplessly with both hands.

“Oh, great! You can give me a lift. I need to hit a couple shops before tonight. I’ll have to go get changed but I’ll meet you back here.” She brightened considerably, sitting back up and running her hands through her hair, pulling it into a messy ponytail. “I don’t know if you remember, but you did offer to ‘escort me about town’ last night. It was cute. Like we were just strangers meeting at a bar.” She winked, suggestively.  

Murtagh buried his head in his hands with a muffled curse. “Belle… I don’t think. I mean, last night was….If I had known it was you…” He peeked at her between his fingers.

“Hmm, very funny, Murtagh.” Belle caught the tip of her tongue between her teeth as she smiled at him.

It really wasn’t fair of her to be so adorable when he was trying to tell her what an idiot he was. His hands fell away. “I’m afraid I’m serious. I… I didn’t recognize you until this morning. And I feel the need to apologize. It’s bad enough a man my age behaving the way I did… and with a girl – a woman – your age. But with you my former student… the whole thing is simply unconscionable.” He hung his head, unable to look at her. “I’m sorry…. Storybrooke has always brought out the worst in me.”

Belle made a sound of disbelief, going very still beside him. He ventured a glance at her in his peripheral. She looked pensive, her arms wrapping protectively around her midsection.

“I’m sorry…” he repeated, lamely, holding his hand out, palm up, as in surrender.

She shook her head. “I… I misinterpreted. By a long shot. Just… wow.” She practically leapt from the bed, grabbing her dress off of the floor and pulling it on. “I’ll just… I’ll just go.”

Halfway to the door, shoes in hand, she paused and spoke without turning. “I hope this won’t be a problem at the reunion, tonight.”

Before he could even think of how to respond, she was gone.


	3. Misty Water-colored Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted:  
> The former student prompt- How did Belle interpret the events of the night before? (she practically jumped on him at the bar)
> 
> Anonymous prompted:  
> Poor HSR!Belle :( Did she have a crush on her former teacher back in the day?

Belle had spent all week running errands, sending emails, and making phone calls. Storybrooke High’s ten year Reunion was coming together nicely under her watchful eye. She hadn’t volunteered for the job. When Astrid had needed to back out, last minute, Regina, their former classmate and Storybrooke’s current mayor, had insisted that Belle French was the only person who could reliably see it through. Belle would have been flattered if Regina had bothered to actually ask before assuming she would take the job.

Belle had grit her teeth and agreed, if only because she knew that keeping the Mayor happy would help when it came time to ask for more funding for the library.

Belle had harbored dreams of travel and adventure as a girl. Her father’s Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis had proved a stumbling block to pursuing them. Out of high school she had gone to a local college, commuting home on weekends to do work around the house and keep an eye on her father. By the time she graduated, Moe French had closed the flower shop completely and lived on disability. The flare-ups were becoming more frequent and more detrimental. Without the money for proper treatment, he was rarely in remission.  

Belle had moved back into his house after college and gotten work at the local diner. A grant to the town of Storybrooke from Mr. Murtagh Gold, after he published that book and left teaching to become a world famous author, had allowed the town Library to reopen. Belle immediately applied for the position of Head Librarian. It was a salaried full time position, with benefits. She took that over and, when not tending to her father, began taking online classes to get her Master’s in Library Science. With a higher degree, she could ask for a raise. As it was, she still picked up the occasional shift at Granny’s to make ends meet.

It was not exactly living the dream, but it was starting to feel a little more like taking control of her destiny. Even if there was always Regina breathing down her neck and demanding she find more ways to make the library profitable.

Getting Murtagh Gold to agree to speak at the ten year reunion had been a coupe. Belle supposed she could count herself lucky that she had gotten ahold of his son on the phone. Neal had been a few years younger than her and they ran with separate crowds, but she remembered him as being a sweet boy. It seemed that Neal had been able to convince his father to fly into Maine. Luckily they were only in New York, at the moment. If she had called the year before, she’d have found him travelling Europe to promote his latest book.

Belle already knew this because she had been following his career from day one. Murtagh had quit teaching the year she graduated. His last year in Storybrook would have been hers, as well, if Moe hadn’t been diagnosed that summer. If she was honest with herself, (and Belle tried to be honest with everyone, as a rule) Belle had spent many a daydream imagining Murtagh asking her to come with him on his book tour.

English class had been more than a bit of a challenge to get through with his thick Scottish accent tickling her ears, his warm brown eyes making her flush and have to hide her face. It was just a ridiculous schoolgirl crush but it was one she never quite grew out of.

For the night of the reunion, she’d booked a room at the hotel, needing to be close to the site in case anything went wrong. It had been her friend Ariel’s idea for her to stay the night before the reunion, as well. 

“Look, why don’t you take an extra night, just for you? Eric and I can check in on Moe and call if he needs anything. You deserve a couple nights off, now and then.”

Belle had protested weakly, but hadn’t really taken as much convincing as she probably ought. Everything was set for the Reunion so this really was just for her. A purely selfish indulgence. For just one night out of the whole year, Belle French wanted to stop feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders.

She had worn one of her nicest dresses (the other being saved for the reunion, itself) and set herself up at the bar. Unsurprisingly, Dr. Victor Whale had been the first to offer her a drink. He was a regular at the hotel bar, picking up those who probably didn’t know any better. Storybrooke was a small town and he’d worked his way through many of the eligible ladies, there, already. He had admitted, with a laugh, that he barely even recognized Belle – “all dolled up” he called her.

“Is it… too much?” She asked, tugging at the hem of her fitted skirt.

“Never too much of a good thing.” Victor replied with a wink.

Belle’s mouth quirked. “You know this is still just a drink between friends, though, right?”

Victor shrugged. “Aw well, there go my naughty librarian fantasies… Anyway, it was good to see you, French but I’m afraid I’m needed elsewhere. There’s a blonde over there who looks terribly thirsty.”

Belle shook her head in amusement as he wandered away to the other end of the bar. Victor hadn’t gone to school with them because he’d only moved to Storybrooke a few years ago. However, she had a sneaking suspicion he’d finagle his way into the reunion if only for the free drinks and insecure women looking for an ego boost.

She’d been a few drinks in when the object of many a late night fantasy suddenly stumbled through the door. He was a little grey at the temples, his face had acquired a line or two. His suite looked a little rumpled but far more expensive than anything he’d owned as a teacher. The cane he leaned on now had a gold handle where once it had been a gleaming mahogany. So many little details, Belle French absorbed immediately, almost effortlessly. She would have known him anywhere.

Belle turned away from Murtagh Gold to take a deep breath and gather her courage.  _Play it cool, Belle. He’s probably used to being recognized, by now. Don’t want to make a scene._

As if her thoughts had drawn him over, he came to the bar and stood directly next to her.

She was screaming on the inside, completely uncertain as to how she ought to engage him in conversation. It had been ten years, she was a grown woman, now. But he was still her former teacher and living hero.  _Would it be trite to ask for an autograph? In sharpie? On my breasts?_

She shook off the ridiculous thoughts and began strategizing anew. Which was hard to do, this many margaritas into the night.

“That’s a lovely tattoo, dearie.” He broke the silence of the nearly empty bar.

Belle half turned to look at him with a smile, grateful he’d been the one to speak first. “Why, thank you, Murtagh, I designed it, myself.”

His eyes flickered with surprise at her bold use of his first name but he smiled in return. “Am I that easy to spot?”

Belle laughed. “To the trained eye, yes. And I had a very good teacher.” She winked, knowingly.

He nodded as the pieces seemed to fall into place. “I’ll say. And what is a beautiful student such as yourself, doing here, tonight?”

“Blowing off steam. Letting the world turn without me. You can pick a cliché and I’m sure we can make it fit.” Belle shrugged, toying with the straw of her drink before taking a sip.

Murtagh accepted his own drink from the bartender with a nod. “Not sure the world would want to turn without you…”

She felt her cheeks go hot. It was like being in class, but a million times better because Mr. Gold was actually noticing her. In fact, he was very unsubtly letting his gaze wander to her décolletage. When Victor had done the same, it made her want to roll her eyes. Now, alcohol buzzing in her veins, Murtagh’s glances only made her want to lean forward and afford him a better view.

“Do you… want to get a table?” She suggested, feeling sexy and scandalous.

He raised an eyebrow. “With me?”

 “Of course with you, we have a lot of catching up to do…”

He raised his glass. “Oh, not that much. I did start drinking on the plane.”

Belle laughed again and led him to a corner booth. They settled in and began to discuss his latest book. The conversation was a little disjointed as they were both clearly quite drunk. They veered briefly to how much he hated to fly and Belle touched on a sad memory of her flight from Australia, shortly after her mother’s death. Murtagh stroked her arm lightly until she pulled away from the recollection and back into the present. Where an actual dream was coming true right before her eyes.

Back when she’d been his student, Mr. Gold showed very little favoritism. Students didn’t like him much because he assigned a great deal of work. Parents didn’t like him much because he also held a small side business in real estate and owned quite a few of their properties. But Belle had never had a problem with him. Besides her hormonal reaction, she found him a judicious and effective teacher. Other students, those who were less concerned with timeliness or completion of assignments, might not have agreed.

As it was, Belle had never expected any kind of special treatment as his student, although that didn’t stop her secretly longing for it. That also never stopped her burying her hands between her legs in the dark of the night and imagining getting singled out by him, even if it was for a detention. Of course, in her mind, it was the kind of detention that involved spanking and at least partial nudity. Belle had discovered romance novels at a very impressionable age.

Now, they were both adults. Legal, consenting adults. And even if he was only in town for the next couple of nights, Belle could pretend that he had come back just for her. It had been her message that brought him back to Storybrooke, after all. And here he was flirting shamelessly (if a little clumsily – and damned if even that wasn’t endearing) the night before the big reunion. Tomorrow, the whole graduating class would hear him speak.

Tonight, he could be just hers.


	4. Prompts part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Verse is built on Prompts, so here are the first set of TMI Tuesday Prompts and answers that are canon within this story.

Anonymous asked:Reunion!Belle: How good was your former teacher in bed? Don't leave out any details? ;)

 

Reunion!Belle: Well, I’m not the most experienced girl but he certainly put any other lovers to shame! I was pretty tipsy (OK, drunk as a skunk) but I do remember he made me come 3 times. Once while he was inside me (good lord can he move his hips!) and twice before that.

The things that man could do with his hands…. not to mention his mouth! I think he kissed almost every inch of my body. It was like he couldn’t get enough of me… I’ve never felt so completely desired in my life.

Which is why it hurt all the more when I realized he hadn’t known it was me. I guess I still had that schoolgirl fantasy that he’d always thought of me as special or different. It was so effortless at the bar. It felt like he knew me. But I was just a meaningless one night stand to him, I guess.

I can’t really blame him or anything. He didn’t mislead me on purpose. He’s just… not the man I thought he was…

***

Anonymous asked: Is Zelena going to make an appearance in the Reunion verse? As someone who also has a crush with Gold?

_A/N: Well, this is a prompt-verse, so… now she is!_

 

The tall red-haired woman strode confidentially through the airport. She hadn’t been back to Storybrooke since graduation but this was a special occasion. It was the ten year reunion. It wasn’t her ten year reunion. That had been last year and she hadn’t deigned to make an appearance. But her sister’s class had graduated from Storybrooke High ten years ago and the most important man in her life had left town soon after. That same man would be making a speech at the invite-only reunion. So, she had decided it might be nice to pay her sister a visit for the weekend.

Zelena Mills had tried every venue within her power to reach out to the private and reclusive Murtagh Gold over the last decade. She had been to almost every reading, every lecture, every public appearance that her budget would allow. As she’d been forced to split the Mills’ family fortune with her annoying brat of a little sister, there wasn’t always quite as much money as she would like to go jet-setting to his every event. She got by, though, as a writer for one of the world’s most popular women’s magazines. She’d had to tank the careers of a few other writers to get there, but the job was worthwhile.  The hours were good and she loved being able to tell women everywhere what to wear and how to woo their men.

And that was exactly what Zelena intended to do. Woo her man. Pursue him until he had no choice but to give in.

***

Anonymous asked:Reunion! Gold: Do u know a Zelena Mills?

 

Gold [sighing]: Yes, I taught her at Storybrooke High. She was a good student but always a little… intense.

I’ve had the distinct misfortune of running into her several times over the years at readings and signings. She seems to think that slipping me yet another note asking to meet for drinks will change my mind from all the other times I’ve said no.

She stopped for a while and I’d hoped she’d lost interest. But every time I release a new book, it starts up again. I’ve considered a restraining order, but she hasn’t made any direct threats so it would only be laughed out of court.

Luckily, I usually have a PR team around to keep unsavory people at bay. They aren’t at the Storybrooke reunion, of course. But that wasn’t publicized and it’s a private event.

I highly doubt she even knows I’m back here

***

Anonymous asked:Reunion!Gold: what did Gold do after Belle left?

 

Murtagh stared at the door in stunned silence. Somehow by trying rectify one perceived mistake, he’d managed to make what appeared to be a much bigger one. Belle looked as though he had knocked all of the wind out of her.

He climbed slowly out of bed, unsure of where he’d left his cane the night before. A few more memories were starting to make their way to the surface of his mind.

Belle telling him to catch up with her. Belle referring to Mayor Mills by her first name. The familiar ease between them. That instant spark of admiration he’d felt when he first saw her. How could he have not known? In retrospect, it was all so obvious.

And he was a bloody idiot. He’d not just hurt her feelings. He had let her think that she wasn’t special to him. So afraid that they had made an embarrassing drunken mistake…. So intent on saving face, he’d completely missed the mark.

Belle hadn’t regretted their night together until he made her.

Disgusted with himself, he slammed his fist down on the nearest table and then immediately wished he hadn’t. His hand screamed in pain as he carefully clenched and unclenched it. He wiggled his fingers and examined the damage under a lamp. Nothing was broken. At least not in his hand.

The intense connection he had shared with Belle might be a different story.


	5. Conversations with Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the Reunion verse maybe Belle runs into Ruby while shopping & talks about what happen?
> 
> Reunion verse prompt: Could Will be Belle's best friend from high school, and then maybe Gold could see them together and get the wrong idea.

Regina was mollified by the plans for the party, though she had originally tried to nix the balloon budget. Belle had managed to get a discount on the DJ to compensate for a few more balloons and a helium tank. There would be a very large cake at the end of the evening made personally by Granny. The decorations were cheap dollar store stuff but would be effective enough under the low lighting.

The town was busier than usual, excited to see so many of its prodigal sons and daughters returned. Belle had picked up a new pair of stockings and some Dr. Scholl’s pads for her shoes but she still had a few hours to kill before the hotel woud start setting up the ballroom for the Reunion. She slipped into The Emperor’s Used Clothes to peruse the racks and try to calm her racing mind with some retail therapy.

She wasn’t sure how she was going to face Murtagh – Mr. Gold – tonight. She was his main point of contact and had even arranged for a green room, of sorts, so he wouldn’t be forced to mingle for the entire evening. Which, it turned out, was probably as much to her benefit as his. At least he would be out of sight once the speech was finished. Then, perhaps she could try to salvage her enjoyment of the evening. If there weren’t too many fires left to put out.

Which reminded her – she ought to check that the smoke alarms all had batteries.

So deep in thought was she, that she failed to notice  her dear friend Ruby Lucas sail through the doorway and head straight for her.

“Hey, lady!” Ruby greeted her cheerfully.

Belle jumped slightly. “Oh! Ruby! Hey.”

“Please, don’t look happy to see me or anything… Not like I got Billy to DJ for our party tonight for almost peanuts or anything…” Ruby teased, tugging playfully at Belle’s loose curls.

“Oh my gosh, I totally forgot to thank you for that, didn’t I?” Belle’s hands flew to her mouth and she dropped them, clasped together. “I am so sorry; I’ve just been so busy…”

Ruby made a dismissive gesture. “Whatever, girly. From what I heard, you have been, ahem, busy… As in, may not have gotten a lot of sleep last night, busy.” She gave an exaggerated wink.

Belle felt her face go hot. “Who told you?”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Who else? Victor was having breakfast at the diner, telling Astrid how you got all cozy with a certain former teacher at the hotel bar last night. So, of course, Leroy knows…”

Belle groaned inwardly. “Which means the whole town is gonna know. I love that man but if we needed a town crier, I know who I’d nominate…”

Ruby looked at her skeptically. “You don’t look nearly as excited as I’d expect for a girl whose every adolescent fantasy just came true. Was it bad? Could he not…?” she made an obscene hand gesture.

Belle swallowed a giggle. “No. That definitely was not the problem. Like, really not.”

Ruby arched an eyebrow. “I’m really torn over whether or not I want details. Because I never wanted his balls like you did but I  _am_  kinda curious...”

Belle sighed. “Well, I’m not sure I’m quite ready to relive the experience just yet. Fantasies aside, I’m starting to think it may have been a huge mistake.”

“Why?”

Belle noticed Ashley and Katherine browsing a few racks over. Normally she’d greet the two blondes but this was not a conversation she felt like sharing. She inclined her head toward the door. “Walk with me?”

Ruby agreed and the two of them strolled arm and arm onto the main street. At length, Belle found the words to express what she was feeling.

“He didn’t even remember me, Rubes.” She sighed. “He just thought I was… I dunno… a random bar skank. Not that I have anything against random bar skanks. I just… I went with him last night thinking that Mr. Gold – the man that, yes, I have crushed on for a decade – was finally seeing me as worthy of his attention. That he saw past the mousy Belle French always turning in double length essays to the woman I had become. That… that he respected me for both mind and body. But apparently, it was just body he was after. He only realized who I was when we woke up this morning.”

Ruby looked thoughtful. “Ok, but the sex was good, right?”

Belle swatted her friend’s arm lightly. “Not exactly the point. But God, yes.”

Ruby shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t really see a problem, Bells. I mean, it sucks that he didn’t recognize you. But… it’s been ten years. He had hundreds of students and he’s all famous author now so he probably gets tons of groupies. But you still got to scratch that itch you’ve had for ages. And it sounds like you had a good time, at the time. I mean, it’s not like he’s moving back to Storybrooke so you guys can date or anything. It was always gonna be a one night thing.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Belle grudgingly conceded.

“What happened when he realized you were, um, you?”

Belle’s shoulders slumped. “He apologized.”

Ruby stopped their slow amble to face her friend “Wait. Seriously?”

Belle nodded. “He acted like he’d, I don’t know, violated me, or something!”

Ruby stifled a giggle with one hand.

“It’s not funny, Rube.”

“It kind of is. I mean, he’s gone for all these years. He comes back and falls right into teacher-mode?” Ruby shook her head. “You sure know how to pick, ‘em, Bells.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Belle replied, dryly.

Falling silent, they resumed their stroll. Ruby’s observation had struck a chord within her. She hadn’t thought about how Mr. Gold must have felt, this morning. She had been so focused on her own hurt feelings. So what if he’d only gone with her thinking she was a one night stand? That didn’t take away from the night they’d shared. It cheapened her own experience, in retrospect because she’d thought he was fulfilling her long held fantasy. But how could he have known that? Belle bit back an exasperated sigh. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t really stay angry with him for not reading her mind.

“Hey! Lookit you two, still bird of a feather after all these years!”

A voice from her past made Belle turn on one heel. Ruby stumbled slightly but followed her lead. A few feet behind them, a tall, slightly gangly man with short cropped hair and large eyes grinned at her.

“Will!” she exclaimed, releasing Ruby to run into the extended arms of her closest high school friend. Will Scarlett had moved to London shortly after graduation and ended up staying there after he met a woman named Anastasia. They had kept in touch via email and social media over the years. Belle had even babysat their daughter one night when they had come back to visit a few year back. But he hadn’t mentioned coming to town for the reunion.

He hugged her to him as Ruby trotted over.

She pulled back, tears of joy pricking at the sides of her eyes. “You total wanker, Will. You never once mentioned you’d be here!”

“Well, after all the effort you’ve made to have the perfect reunion, how could I not?” He released her and embraced Ruby, as well. “Besides, wouldn’t be a party without me, would it?”

Ruby snorted. “Wouldn’t get raided by the sheriff without you, either,” she teased.

“That was just that one time!” Will defended himself with a laugh, hands raised in mock surrender.

“Twice, actually. He just didn’t catch you the first time.” Belle pointed out.

“Oh, right. God, feels like a lifetime, ago. So, what kind of trouble are you to up to, today, girls?” He took them both in with an easy smile.

Ruby cleared her throat and looked pointedly at Belle. “Well…”

Belle elbowed the taller girl. “Just hanging out before we go pretty up for the party.”

“Like you could get any prettier.” Will held her by the shoulders and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

She pushed him away playfully. “You charmer. Where’s Ana, by the way?”

“Jet-lagged as fuck, poor sweetheart. The baby cried almost the whole flight. She’s sleeping it off. Granny Lucas insisted on watching the kids for a few hours. So, I thought I’d come to town for a few pain-killers and a change of scenery. Maybe look up a few fond memories. Anyone else care for a stroll down to the docks?”

“Shit!” Ruby exclaimed. “I totally forgot Granny wanted me to watch the front desk for a few hours. Ugh, she’s gonna kill me. I’ll see you guys tonight , providing she lets me keep all my essential body parts!” She kissed each of their cheeks and dashed off.

“Well, I guess that leaves you and me. Shall we?” Will wrapped an arm around Belle’s shoulders and looked down at her upturned face.

She nodded, leaning into his side. They headed toward the docks, oblivious they were being observed by a man who stood just out of ear-shot.

Murtagh Gold had frozen in his tracks when he spotted a particular head of auburn curls in the distance. The hand clutching the head of his cane tightened its grip as an unfamiliar feeling gnawed at his belly. He suddenly regretted the letter that he had slipped under Belle’s hotel room door on a whim. He had been mistaken about her, once again. His jaw hardened and he turned away, heading back to the car he had called.

 


	6. Gorgeous and Irrestistable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Reunion prompt: Gold heads out for the reunion & sees Zelena. She asks him if he can give her a ride to the reunion. Belle finds the letter when she's about to leave for the reunion.

Gold was about slip into the sleek black sedan when a woman’s voice called his name.

He turned slightly and cringed.

A tall redhead was tripping toward him as fast as she could on her bright green high heels. “There you are, Murtagh, darling! I was hoping I’d see you in town. It is a dreary little place, isn’t it? Can’t believe I got by here as long as I did.” By the time she had finished speaking, Zelena was barely a foot away from him.

Murtagh instinctively placed himself behind the open car door, holding it across himself like a shield. Every time he released a new book, Zelena made it a point to show up and throw herself at him. Eventually she got bored and went off to find someone else to bother. But she always seemed to come back to him. She was still in the midst of her latest fixation (letters every week, some written in lipstick and signed with a slashed “Z” as though he didn’t already know her identity). She had been at the reading he did before leaving New York, but his security team had kept her at bay.

How on earth had she known he was going to be here, this weekend? He had meticulously avoided any press, kept it off of his website, hadn’t even mentioned it to the few in his social circle he deemed friends.

And then it dawned on him that he was an idiot. Zelena’s sister, younger by about a year, was in the class he was here to address. The same class as Belle. Though, to look at them you’d never realize it, the two girls had been almost friendly back in those days. They were both very bright students. Regina was by far the more ambitious. A trait which seemed to run in the Mills family.

Regina had been the one to discover the almost-affair that Murtagh had had with the Mills matriarch, before the girls were born. Cora had been considering leaving her then-fiancé, Henry. Murtagh was recently divorced and dangerously disillusioned. They bonded over their disappointment in love and spent one torrid night in a cabin on the edge of the woods.

Murtagh’s arrival in Storybrooke had been an attempt to get away from the big cities and raise his family in the quiet serenity of a small town. In retrospect it had also been a last, desperate attempt to save his marriage. His wife, Milah, was an alcoholic. He had hoped that getting her away from the bright lights and all-night bars would help. It didn’t. She had moved out within the year, leaving in the middle of the night with a man she’d met only days before. Every year, on Neal’s, birthday, she sent a postcard from a different city.

By the time he met Cora, Murtagh had given up contract law and started teaching English. It paid less but allowed him far more time with his son. He owned a rental property or two that supplemented his income but he was not, then, a very affluent man. Nor did he aspire to be. Cora found his lack of prospects most unappealing, in the light of day, and went back to her wealthy and well-connected fiancé. With her, she took several polaroids of him in various states of undress.

He hadn’t known she kept the polaroids until Regina brought him a handful, in a clumsy attempt at blackmailing him to change a “B” to an “A.” He had dismissed her immediately and had a strongly worded talk with her mother. Regina had disliked him ever since. Her sister, who had apparently also seen the pictures, formed a very different opinion. It must have been Regina’s junior year because he remembered both girls were in school at the same time. One would scowl and glare and the other would fall over herself to bat her lashes at him every morning. It was a most unsettling year.

But it was also the year he finally finished his novel. The next year, it was published and he left behind teaching forever. Soon after, Zelena had reappeared in his life. She never seemed threatening enough to call the authorities but he was not prepared to handle her without a cavalcade of security or at least a bodyguard.

“Well? Aren’t you happy to see me, my love?” Zelena prompted.

Murtagh blinked at her. “Happy is… not the first word that come to mind.”

“Mm, well maybe you’re right. I’m sure there are more effusive terms. Writers like us always have to find just the _bon mot_ , n’est-ce pas?” She released a burst of high pitched giggles. “Anyway, I am just so glad I finally ran into you. I have been bored to tears since I got in this morning. I already have the most divine dress to wear tonight, so there’s really no reason to go shopping in this podunk town. How did we stand it here, do you think? Oh my, I hope you’re wearing a tuxedo, tonight. You do wonders to a suit, I can only imagine a –“

“Zelena!” he cut her off, rather louder than he intended. A few passersby looked at him strangely. He glared until they were on their way.

“Yes, darling?” Zelena cooed.

“Why are you here?” He asked simply, hand flexing around his cane handle. The other hand was cradled in his jacket pocket, still hurting from his previous fit of pique.

Zelena looked taken aback, “Why, to support you, of course! What kind of a woman would I be if I didn’t give my man all the love and attention he needs. And I suppose it was time to visit that perfect little sister of mine. It’s been far too long since she had the chance to tell me how well her life is going and pretend not to be jealous of mine.” She flipped her hair over on shoulder. “But really, I’m here for you. I’ll always be there for you, my sweet Murtagh….”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he muttered.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing. Look, I’ve got to go. The meter on this car is running. So… good luck with…. whatever it is you do with your time.” He began to get into the waiting car.

“Oh!” Zelena exclaimed. “Are you going back to the hotel? Because that’s exactly where I should be going and I could use a ride.” She arched her eyebrows suggestively.

Murtagh’s stomach turned. “Ah, sorry. I’m afraid I have business to attend to, first. What a pity.” He climbed into the backseat as quickly as his leg would allow and slammed his hand down on the lock. He barked the order to the driver, promising a significant bonus if they left immediately.

Apparently, it was time to find a security guard, in town. Surely, there was someone with a license to carry who might be up for the job.

***

Belle had a wonderful time catching up with Will, but she was starting to get anxious about getting back in time. She bid him a fond farewell, popped in to check on her dad and caught a cab back to the hotel. She was bustling into her room, chatting on her cell with Mary Margaret, when something caught her eye. Just at the edge of her door was a folded over white piece of paper. She must have stepped over it when she walked in. It didn’t look like anything she’d dropped.

She turned it over and her breath caught. She knew that handwriting. It had been at the bottom of every essay she had turned in for two years. It was scrawled across the inside jacket of the first edition books she had ordered online when she wasn’t able to personally attend any of Murtagh Gold’s signing events.

“MM? Can I talk to you about this later?”

“Sure. You okay?” Mary Margaret sounded distracted anyway. The baby had just woken up.

“Um, yeah. Sure. Call you later.” Belle made a kissing noise into the phone and hung up. She sat heavily on the edge of the bed, tracing the perfect center fold of the paper with her fingertips. She hoped it wasn’t another apology for sleeping with her. That was starting to feel ridiculous, at this point. She flipped it open.

_Dear Belle,_

_I have always been better at expressing myself through the written word. Therefore, I hope you will forgive the antiquated mode of communication. I hope this missive finds you in better spirits than you were at the time of our parting. I will not repeat the apology I made so erroneously this morning. I understand – or at least, I think I understand – that my doing so previously may have caused you distress. That was never my intention. Please, believe me when I tell you that I have absolutely no regrets regarding last night’s encounter. Such things are not commonplace in my life as I am not commonly the type to throw caution to the wind, as it were. I was quite taken with you and I remain so. I am, in fact, quite in awe of the woman you have become. It was foolish of me not to recognize the girl I once knew. However, you, Miss French, are far beyond what I had anticipated encountering at this reunion. You are possessing of a grace and wit that belies your years. Had I been in my right mind at the bar, I would have been far more hesitant to even approach you, much less think myself worthy of your favor._

_I admit that I am ashamed of my reaction, this morning. Last night, I touched heaven, but I awoke with the fear that I had flown too high. Even as I write this, your scent lingers in my sheets, in the air of my room. It is driving me mad, to have tasted such perfection only to drive it away by my own misguided actions._

_I am, by all admission, a difficult man. That should not have been your burden to bear. I hope that I have not ruined this weekend of festivities for you. I cannot, in good conscience, ask anything else of you. I do, nonetheless, harbor hope that we may be reconciled - at least for the evening. If so, I would ask the favor of a dance, at the reunion, tonight. Just one. A chance to bid you a proper goodbye, and part as little more or little less than we have ever been. If you are not amenable, I will completely understand._

_Yours,_

_M. Gold_

Belle read it twice. Then a third time to be certain she wasn’t misinterpreting. Then she called Ariel (who had already heard the news from Leroy and sent her a text with multiple question marks). She read the letter to Ariel.

“So, what do I do?” she asked, tremulously.

Her friend was silent for a moment. “Well… did you have a good time last night?”

“God, yes.”

“I say bang him again.” Ariel replied matter-of-factly.

“Ariel!” Belle exclaimed.

“What? He obviously wants to… all that ‘I can smell you on my sheets and it’s driving me mad’ stuff. And it’s not like you ever get laid. Like, ever. Live it up, girl!”

Belle shook her head, though she knew the other girl couldn’t see her. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m _married_. I love Eric - you know I do. But I never did any of that crazy single gal stuff. I need to live vicariously through you and Ruby. And she’s been kinda boring, lately. Go have a wild… sexy… um, _two_ -night stand. Then tell me all about it over manis and pedis.” Ariel giggled.

“You’ve been watching too much Sex in the City.” Belle chided. “But you’re right about the getting laid thing. And sex was really good. I mean… _really_ good.”

“Yes. Like that. Only with more details. And a cup of Starbucks in my hand. Be gorgeous and irresistible tonight. Bring him to his knees. You can do it.” Ariel encouraged, cheerfully.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind him on his knees…” Belle said, thoughtfully, enjoying the mental image.

“Atta girl! Call me tomorrow! Love you!”

“Love you too.”

They hung up and Belle held up her dress for the reunion. It was a little more demure than the one from the night before, but the hemline was certainly daring.

“Ok, gorgeous and irresistible. Here we go…”


	7. Shall We Dance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rowofstars Prompt for the Reunion verse: Belle ends up dancing with some guy she really never wanted to see again, and when he starts getting handsy, Gold comes to her rescue. They finish out the dance and maybe finally get to have that talk. Bonus points for touching and dancing related sexual tension. ;)

Murtagh adjusted his tie for the 10 th time. The man staring back at his from the mirror looked cross and overtired. Not the suave, worldly sophistication he had hoped to achieve. But it would have to do.

There was a knock at his door and he looked over in trepidation. A few phone calls had ensured that there would, in fact, be security at the Reunion but only supplied by the hotel. He had made a few more subtle inquiries and managed to hire a bodyguard for the night. Zelena might not be dangerous, but seeing her made him realize what an oversight it had been to make an unprotected public appearance. Better safe than sorry.

He peered through the peephole of the door. A blonde woman in an elegantly tailored black suit was tapping one foot, hands on her narrow hips. He opened the door.

“Mr. Gold?” the blonde woman asked, curtly.

“Aye. And you are?”

“Emma. The agency said you needed someone to keep an eye out at an event tonight.” She extended a hand.

He took it and they shook firmly. She had a good grip, he’d give her that. “I… hadn’t expected a woman,” he admitted.

Emma narrowed her eyes. “Is that a problem?”

Murtagh held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “No! No, not at all. Thank you for taking the job on such short notice.”

Emma shrugged. “You ready to head down to the green room area?”

Murtagh was impressed. “They did brief you well. Do you know the layout of the hotel, too?”

“I looked it over. Need to know all the emergency exits.”

Murtagh nodded. “Good. Because I haven’t the slightest idea where the green room is.”

***

In the small room that had been set aside for Mr. Gold and the band that would play later tonight, Belle French was pacing slightly. Which was not easy while wearing 5 inch stiletto heels and walking on carpet. The band had already arrived, dropped their equipment in the room and gone on to avail themselves of the open bar. Murtagh had not arrived yet.

Belle glanced up at the clock. He went on in another 10 minutes. Though, if pressed, she was sure she could get Archie to riff for an additional five. Whether or not the crowd could withstand any more squeaky clean jokes was another matter.

The outer door swung open and in strode Mr. Gold. Belle’s breath caught. The suit he’d been wearing the night before had been rumpled from travel, the tie loose and askew. This suit was perfectly pressed and tailored to fit him like a glove. And for a moment, Belle was 17 years old and lost in a daydream that involved her panties being left on the floor of Gold’s classroom.

A moment later a blonde woman filed in after Murtagh, glancing around the room with a keen interest.

Confused, Belle approached them. “M- uh, Mr. Gold… you… brought a date?”

“Erm. No. This is Emma. She’s…”

“I was hired to be here.” The blonde supplied offhandedly, scrutinizing the paneling on the walls as though she could see through it to the next room.

Belle’s eyebrows shot to her hairline and she blinked rapidly. “Oh!”

Murtagh made a pained expression, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. “She’s a bodyguard. I’ve been having some… difficulties with public appearances, lately.”

Belle’s heart rate started to return to normal, though there was still an odd ringing in her ears. “Oh.” She fought back a giggle of relief. “So, um, should I get her a name tag?”

“No need.” Emma replied, hooking her thumbs into the pockets of her black dress pants. “Have you noticed any suspicious individuals hanging around, Miss?”

Belle shook her head. “It’s Belle. And the only other people who even know this room is here are the band members and Archie. He’s our master of ceremonies for the night.”

“Really?” Murtagh looked taken aback. “He could barely string two words together in front of the class, as I recall.”

 “Well, that was a decade ago.” Belle tilted her head to the side with a small, flirtatious smile. “We’ve _all_ grown up a bit, since then.”

Murtagh’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his eyes skittering across her face before falling to the ground. “Yes, I suppose I keep forgetting that.”

Belle took a deep breath, gathering her courage (which was apparently much harder to do while sober). In a low voice she murmured. “I’m sure I’d be happy to remind you…”

His gaze returned to her but it was unexpectedly wistful. “I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.”

Thrown off by his lack of response to her less than subtle overtures, Belle shook her head. “What?”

A few feet away, Emma cleared her throat, looking between them with a curious (and slightly uncomfortable) expression. “Okay, so… Everything looks good, here. Gold, you can pull the fire alarm if there’s an emergency. I’m gonna go case the crowd.”

Murtagh dismissed her with a nod, his hands clasped in a V over his cane. “I suppose I’m up soon, anyway.”

“Um. Yeah. The entrance to the stage is just through this door. It’s a little dark and there’s a short set of stairs. I’ll go with you to hold the flashlight.” Belle fell back into responsibility mode, her heart sinking lower by the minute. What had happened between the time he wrote her that beautiful letter and right now? Why did he seem so… distant? Could it have something to do with the reason he had hired a bodyguard, despite never having mentioned the need for one to the reunion committee?

Impulsively, Belle grasped one of his hands in both of hers. “Murtagh, you’re not in some kind of trouble, are you? I mean, if it’s dangerous for you to be here… you don’t have to go out there. I’m sure the class will understand.”

Murtagh’s mouth fell open. “I’m… no, I don’t think I’m in any imminent danger. There’s just been a… somewhat overly persistent fan. I thought it was prudent to tighten security, that’s all.” His eyes softened. “But I appreciate the concern.”

Belle leaned in, determined to tell him how his letter had touched her. “Murtagh… I – ”

Astrid popped her head in around the stage door. “Hey, is Mr. Gold here?” She whispered, Archie’s voice carrying over the sound system behind her. Her eyes lit on the man in question. “Oh! Hi Mr. Gold!” She looked back to Belle and gave a thumb’s up. “We’re ready for him.”

Belle swallowed her words and led Murtagh to the stage.

***

As far as speeches went, it wasn’t his best. But he managed to get a few laughs, especially when poking fun at himself and how unbearably strict he had once been. Murtagh had not been a happy man in Storybrooke. He wasn’t always the happiest of men, now. But at least he was living the life he had chosen. There was no sign of Zelena in the crowd and Emma was keeping quite the eagle eye. She was a smart cookie, that girl. He found himself increasingly fond of her blunt nature.

A few students approached to tentatively ask for autographs. When the rest saw that he did not seem to be assigning detentions, it must have broken the ice. Before long, Murtagh was engaged in a dissection of Russian literature and finding himself very close to having a good time.

Belle flit from one table to the next, smiling and chatting. She was effervescent in a fitted blue lace dress that shimmered slightly and showed her legs to the utmost advantage. It was cut rather high across the front but low in the back, revealing a hint of that tattoo he remembered tracing with his tongue. Occasionally they caught one another’s eye from across the room and he had to pretend he hadn’t been staring at her.

Quite early on, he had seen the man who had been with her in town and finally recognized him as the class clown from her graduating year. The young man seemed to have also matured considerably, proudly escorting a petite blonde and sharing baby pictures with anyone who came near. Murtagh felt entirely foolish for having assumed there was a romantic connection between this lanky young man and his Belle.

Not that she was his, either.

Certainly not after one night. He hadn’t even been at his peak performance. Though, come to think of it, she had dropped a rather heavy-handed hint in the green room that she wouldn’t mind a repeat. So, he must not have embarrassed himself too badly. And he would very much like a chance to explore her while they were both sober. To undress her slowly and taste every inch of her skin.

Murtagh crossed his legs, discretely. Now was not the time to be thinking about that.

As the conversation ebbed, the band began to play something fast-paced and catchy. People took to the dance floor. With one less than functional leg, Murtagh was not much for this kind of music. He had hoped for a few slower numbers, the kind that meant he ould hold his partner close, feel her move against him. But his eyes flicked over now and again, to see if Belle might be joining the others under the disco ball. Before long, he noticed her swaying her hips to a syncopated beat, her arms over her head. He watched her with unabashed enjoyment. She laughed at something a tall dark-haired woman said and turned her gaze to him.

He swallowed, caught in the act. He began to rise from his chair when a man approached Belle from behind and grabbed her hips. Belle stepped away from the man, scowling. The man persisted.

Before his mind knew what his feet were doing, Murtagh was on the dance floor. He approached the taller man (whom he now vaguely recognized as having sat at the back of his classroom and drawn penises on everything).

“It appears the lady is uninterested. I suggest you move along.” He spat, baring his teeth.

The man scoffed. “What the hell, Gramps. What are you gonna do? Fail me?”

“I’m sure life has already done that for me, Mr. Nottingham.” Murtagh summoned his nastiest grin and planted his cane on the man’s foot, pressing down with enough pressure to pin him to the floor without breaking any toes. He grabbed Nottingham’s tie with his free hand. The taller man’s eyes went wide, stunned into silence at the unexpected show of dominance.

“Now, here’s a chance for you to pay attention and actually learn something, for once.” Murtagh continued, almost conversationally. “When a woman expresses her disinterest, it’s time for you to back. The fuck. Off. Understood?”

Around them, the other dancers had mostly stopped their merriment to watch the very strange show-down.

Keith Nottingham glared at Murtagh but nodded as he saw several other faces in the crowd watching him disapprovingly. He had a reputation in town and it was very unlikely that anyone would see fit to come to his aid. Realizing he’d lost, Nottingham slunk away as soon as Murtagh released him.

Murtagh felt a few people clap him on the back, but all he saw was Belle.

She blinked at him. “Why did you need a bodyguard, again?’

“I’m not licensed to carry a handgun.” He answered, with a crooked grin.

That was not, it seemed, the most comforting answer he could have given.They stood at the edge of the dance floor facing one another for some time. The dancing slowly resumed around them. Belle chewed her lower lip, looking thoughtful.

“I think I should be a little offended, you know,” she admitted, at last.

Murtagh’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Because I can fight my own battles. Not that I’m not grateful. It was really very sweet of you to be concerned but… I didn’t need you to save me. I’m not a damsel in distress.” She leaned toward him, speaking loudly over the live music.

“And I’m no white knight.” Murtagh shrugged. “Just a former teacher who saw someone in need of a lesson.”

“I see.” A slow smile spread across Belle’s face. “So, how about that dance?”

Murtagh’s stomach flipped over. She’d read his letter, after all.

“I… don’t think this is my kind of music but I’ll give it a shot.” He extended his free hand to her.

Belle took it and placed it on her hip. “Just move in close and follow what my body does.”

Yes, there was no way on earth this could lead him to embarrass himself in a very public setting…

Nonetheless, he followed Belle’s example, their hips swaying in tandem. When she swiveled one way or the other, he moved with her and they fell into a rhythm. It was not entirely unlike the dancing he had learned as a boy, only with a much more explicitly erotic element. The heavy, driving beat was beginning to make sense and he let it lead him as much as Belle was. She turned in his arms, grinding her arse against his growing erection. His hand travelled from her hip to the top of her thigh and back. Just when he felt about ready to throw her down on the shiny linoleum, the music stopped.

Everyone around them began clapping. The lead singer introduced herself and her bandmates before launching into the next song.

Belle spun around to face him, again, panting and flushed. He realized that he was completely hard, straining against the zipper of his very expensive trousers. Belle realized it too, wrapping her arms around his shoulders with a wicked grin.

In one ear she whispered “Why don’t you meet me in the green room? I’ll make sure Astrid’s keeping an eye on things out here so I can slip away for a bit.” She nibbled his earlobe and he bit back a groan.

“Yeah," he panted. "Good. Yes. Green room. See you there.”


	8. Confrontation and Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunion prompt: Zelena sees Gold/Belle together. Maybe after dancing & Gold leaves to talk to someone & Zelena is shocked to know that this woman is someone she used to pick on & tells Belle that Gold will never be interested in her.
> 
> Reunion prompt: Belle/Gold meet up at the reunion. They dance & after Gold goes to get them drinks so they can talk. Zelena/Belle have a chat.

Belle watched Murtagh walk away, her eyes lingering appreciatively on the neat lines of his form, the well fitted trousers over his derriere. She wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t really back in high school having some elaborate dream. She pressed her lips together, humming along with the music as she scanned the crowd for Astrid.  


The willowy brunette was dancing with her curmudgeonly but lovable boyfriend (and the town gossip) Leroy. Belle’s mouth quirked. She needed to have a word or two with Leroy, as well, but that was best saved for somewhere more private. Usually she didn’t mind the interest he took in the goings on of the town, but then again, she’d never been on this end of the stick before.

She tapped Astrid on the shoulder and the other women bent slightly to hear her.

“Hey, I’m, uh, gonna cut out for a bit. Take a walk. Can you hold down the fort here for a few minutes?”

Astrid looked concerned. “Sure, I can. Are you okay?”

Belle grinned. “Absolutely. Just need to… take care of something. Back in, like, half an hour.” She started to shift away then thought the better of it. Leaning back in, she added, “On second thought make that an hour.”

Astrid’s eyebrows shot up, but she said nothing. Unlike her lover, Astrid had learned a little bit about discretion over the years. 

Belle cleared off of the dance floor just as the music shifted to a popular line dance. She gave the room a once over, satisfied at how well the party had come together, and turned toward the door.

As she reached the outskirts of the room, a tall, buxom redhead slid into her path. From the untouched drink in her hand and the predatory look that flit across her face, it felt as though she had been lying in wait.

“Long time no see, hm?” The woman addressed her in syrupy tones, her smile not even touching her eyes.

Belle’s brow furrowed as she tried to place the woman. “Um, yeah, I suppose so.”

“So, I heard you’re the one who put together this little shindig.”

“I was put in charge of the committee,” Belle agreed, wondering how long was necessary to make idle conversation before she could slip away without being rude.

The redhead casually surveyed the room and made a falsely sympathetic noise. “Must have been working with a tight budget.”

Belle shrugged, the obvious dripping condescension already grating on her nerves. And then she realized who this woman was. The only person it could be, though she had no business being here. Her reunion was last year, if memory served. “Yeah, it was a challenge. Thanks.” Belle started to move past her.

The woman blocked her, phony smile wavering. “That wasn’t a compliment.”

“And I was only saying ‘thank you’ to be polite. Not that you’d know the difference. Are we finished here, Zelena?” Belle blinked at her, irritably. Standing around talking to her high school bully was the last place she wanted to be right now. Especially knowing there was a very sexy Scotsman in the next room, about to make her dreams come true.

Zelena’s eyes lit up. “So you do remember me. I’m flattered, darling. I’d probably have to pull out Regina’s yearbook to remember any of you people.” She ran a hand over her updo, preening.

Belle rolled her eyes. Whether Zelena recognized her from school or not was of absolutely no consequence to her. “Why on earth are you even here? Didn’t you graduate the year before me?”

Zelena sighed heavily. “Well, if you must know, I’m here with my boyfriend. He’s just taking a bit of a breather, right now. I thought I ought to have a little word with you.”

 “I can’t see what you and I possibly have to talk about.”

Zelena’s eyes narrowed, all semblance of conviviality gone. “Well, for starters, we can talk about where you can and can’t put your hands,” she snapped.

Belle took a step back, confused. “What on earth…?”

Zelena pressed forward, her face taking on a harsh, menacing expression. “Murtagh Gold. He is mine.” She planted her hands on her hips. “Just because I got here a little late tonight did not give you an excuse to fling yourself at him like some filthy hussy!”

“What? Sorry?” Belle blanched, completely bewildered by now. Murtaugh… and Zelena? Her thoughts raced as she sought out any clue that Zelena could be telling the truth. Was there any hint Murtaugh might have dropped about a girlfriend or a significant other?

 “I flew all the way out here just for him.” Zelena continued, loudly. “Because he needs me by his side. He was obviously only humoring you. He cherishes me and every moment we spend together. Clearly he’d never look twice at a cheap little tart, like you… ”

Belle tuned the other woman out as her mind hit on the most obvious answer.

_Oh._

_Of course._

_The obsessed fan he had mentioned_.

The reason he had hired a bodyguard for the night… was, apparently, none other than Zelena Mills.

And now Belle’s new lover’s stalker had apparently seen them dancing together. Belle wanted to slap her forehead with her palm for allowing herself to think for even a minute that Murtaugh would be caught dead with Zelena. But right now, she had no time for self-recrimination. She needed to get away from this woman and find Emma. She scanned the room past Zelena’s shoulder.

As if some benevolent cosmic force had heard her prayer, Belle spotted Emma approaching from across the room. 

Meanwhile, Zelena continued to close in on her, backing her toward the wall, hands clenching at her sides. “So, you stay away from him, you disgusting slut. He is not yours and if I see you put your last season’s knock-off clad ass on him, again, so help me…”

Belle squared her shoulders and glared back, keeping half an eye on Emma (who was very close and clearly alerted to the danger). “Well, he certainly didn’t seem to mind. For your information, I’ve put a lot more of my body parts on him than that. And I intend to again. He is absolutely not your boyfriend. He hired a damn bodyguard to keep you away from him tonight!”

Zelena let out a shriek and lunged for Belle, her drink splashing on them both as it fell from her hand.

Thinking fast, Belle ducked out of the way as Emma tackled Zelena to the ground. There was a brief tussle, in which Zelena’s tight skirt limited her leg movement and Emma managed to pin her, chest down. The redhead kicked her feet futilely, grunting with frustration. Emma pulled her hands behind her back and zip-tied them.

Zelena was spitting obscenities and threats. “I will sue you for this, you bitch!”

Emma laughed as she helped Zelena to her feet. “Go ahead and try. I just stopped you from physically assaulting someone in front of at least 30 witnesses, but give it a shot. You look pretty rich, maybe I can countersue for defamation and getting…what is this?” Emma sniffed her sleeve and made a face, “ _Appletini_ on my best jacket.”

“Yeah, she got it on me, too.” Belle grinned at Zelena’s increasingly pink face. “But unlike that suede skirt she’s wearing, ‘last season’s knock off dress’ is machine washable.” She winked.

Zelena only glared in reply, giving a fruitless pull away from Emma’s tight grasp.

Emma looked at her curiously then shrugged it off. “Is this who I think it is, by the way?”

Belle nodded. “Pretty sure. I’ll have to check with Murtaugh, but I think this is her.”

Emma texted a picture to Murtagh who confirmed Zelena’s identity. Once he had ascertained that Belle was with her and safe, Murtaugh agreed to wait for them in the green room (where he had already been pacing nervously over the delay in Belle’s arrival).

Emma dragged a hissing and spitting Zelena to the room with them to await the sheriff. As soon as they were through the door, Murtaugh rushed to Belle. With one hand still on his cane, he wrapped his other arm around her, not seeming to even notice her dress was damp. He pulled back just enough to look her over, his free hand settling at her upper arms.

“You’re alright, sweetheart?” His brown eyes were round and concerned, despite Emma’s previous assurances.

“I’m fine,” Belle smiled wanly. “Tired and a little sticky. But fine.”

He sighed in relief and pressed a firm kiss to her forehead. “I am so, so sorry. If I had known she would follow me and cause all this trouble, I wouldn’t have accepted the invitation to speak.”

“Don’t worry about it, Murtaugh. Hiring Emma was a good move. She really jumped in and tackled the problem.” Belle giggled, feeling a little giddy after all the adrenaline ebbed away. She relaxed into Murtaugh’s embrace.

His face hardened, nostrils flaring, as he glanced at Zelena then away. “I’ve called the sheriff to meet us here.”

Zelena looked up, making a noise of shock and fury, “How could you do this to me, Murtaugh? We are meant to be together! You’re my man! I love you! I know you can love me… just let me prove it to you…”

Murtaugh broke away from Belle with another brief kiss to the top of her head and stalked over to Zelena. “The only thing I can possibly feel for you, Zelena Mills, is contempt. And perhaps pity. That’s not love. There might have been a time when the two were easier to confuse. But I’m not that man. I am not and never will be _yours_.” He leaned in and whispered something in her ear. When he pulled away, Zelena’s face was a mask of devastated astonishment. “Are we understood, Ms. Mills?”

Zelena burst into tears.

Before Belle could even wonder what had just passed between them, the sheriff, David Nolan was walking through the door. Belle and Emma gave their statements and Zelena was taken into custody. As Gold was making his own brief statement, Zelena kept her eyes glued to the floor, tears streaming down her face in sooty mascara tracks.

From several feet away, Emma looked at Zelena, then Gold, and then back at Belle and shook her head. “I don’t get it. I mean, the guy looks good in a suit, I’ll give you that… but, all this fuss over…?”

Belle felt a small stab of irritation with the blonde, but it barely registered on the scale of volatile emotions she had felt in the last hour. “To each their own,” she muttered quietly.

At the look on Belle’s face, Emma quickly added, “No, yeah, completely. I mean, I only got into this field because I used to have a thing for bad boys and criminals. Date enough of ‘em and you get a good idea about the mindset…Sorry, that was kind of a dick thing to say, when you guys are obviously…” Emma made a vague hand gesture and Belle flushed. “Sorry.” There was a gentle pleading in her gaze for just a second before it was tucked away behind a mask of professional neutrality.

Belle softened. Emma was blunt as a spoon but she’d meant no harm. There was something about her, just below the surface, that made Belle want to get to know the gruff, no-nonsense woman. She seemed like she needed a friend. Belle relaxed into an easy smile. “He was my first real crush. Not the playground kind. The crying into your pillow at night, falling asleep with his name on your lips kind. I guess it just never wore off.”

Emma looked thoughtful. “Ten years stuck on the same guy? That’s pretty serious. I don’t think it qualifies as just a ‘crush’ anymore. Which is great because he’s obviously crazy about you.”

Belle’s stomach clenched as she realized Emma may have unintentionally revealed an uncomfortable truth.

Emma shrugged, continuing casually without seeming to notice Belle’s visceral reaction to her words, “But what do I know about any of it, right? My last relationship triumph was getting over my parolee fetish.” She flashed the petite brunette a grin and sauntered off toward where David was just finishing up with Murtaugh.

Belle smiled back politely as her whole world came crashing down around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there will be smut in this. But I got enough prompts for Belle Vs Zelena that I was inspired to write this chapter, first. 
> 
> Ask box always open!


	9. Won't You Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr Prompts:  
> Reunion prompt: Since Belle's dress is wet I think they should head back to the hotel ;)
> 
> Hmm I'm guessing Belle is going to have to wash off that Appletini smell off her body. Shower sex perhaps? *wink*

Murtaugh dismissed Emma’s services for the evening, making sure that she would get a generous tip via paypal. The blonde left with the town sheriff, waving to Belle over one shoulder.

Finally alone, Murtaugh turned to Belle. She looked about as dazed as he felt. Their foray into dirty dancing might as well have been a lifetime ago. But he was determined to make the best of this clusterfuck of an evening. It was to be his last night in Storybrooke and he very much wanted to spend it with Belle. Preferably sans clothing.

Though really, given his druthers, he’d make it far more than a night.

In fact, there was part of his brain already wondering if he might prolong his stay. Just to… make up for lost time. Not that he wanted to assume Belle would be amenable. But it was a pleasant thought and he didn’t have anything immediately pending. He’d have to clear it with Neal. His son handled a lot of his travel arrangements and appearances. Neal would be shocked his father actually wanted to stay even another second in Storybrooke, the town of some of their lowest moments as a family.

While living in Storybrooke, Cora had broken his heart. Milah had deserted them, breaking both of their hearts. Murtaugh had become a bit of a pariah due to his bad temper and exacting deal-making. Neal had been arrested, twice.

Yet, Storybrooke was also the town where Neal was born, the first and greatest joy of his life. It was the town where he’d finally finished his first successful novel and where he lived when it was picked up by a publisher.

It was also a town with Belle French in it.

And maybe, he thought, it was time to make some newer, better memories of dear old provincial Storybrooke. He wondered if Belle had any other plans for the week. And if he was unconscionably greedy for hoping that she didn’t.

The object of his musing licked her pretty pink lips and looked at him. “Well, if you needed material for a new novel, I think tonight might qualify.” She smiled tremulously.

Murtaugh instinctively wrapped both arms around her, her chin coming to rest in the crook of his shoulder. She hesitated briefly and he almost pulled away, afraid he was unwanted. But then he felt her melt against him, hugging him tightly around the middle. He could feel her exhale, hot and shaky, against his neck.

 “I am so, so sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured into her hair. “I never meant for you to get mixed up in this.” With the hand not holding his cane, he stroked her back.

Belle was stuck somewhere between laughing and crying. This weekend had vacillated so wildly between nightmare and dream, she could hardly keep up. And Emma’s words were ringing in her ears, echoing on repeat.

_I don’t think it qualifies as a ‘crush’ anymore._

_He’s obviously crazy about you._

Okay, so the blonde was rather observant. Insightful, even. Didn’t make her right. Surely this was just a girlhood crush that had extended a little long. Over a decade and through 3 failed relationships. Into fantasies she’d been having since she first discovered the pleasure she could illicit with her own two hands. Elaborate fairy tales of Murtaugh’s return to town. How he would sweep her off her feet. Maybe steal her away to Europe. Where he probably lived in a mansion with all his successful novelist money. Or a Villa. People in Europe seemed to live in Villas a lot in her books.

But it was all just daydreaming. She’d never expected the man himself to be so… provocative? Layered? Downright fucking delicious?

Actually, against all odds, ‘crazy’ about her, too?

And God, he felt so good pressed against her like that. Despite the madness of their evening, she could feel her body reacting to their embrace. A pleasant ache began at the apex of her legs, heat curling up her spine, where he was tracing a path with one hand.

But Murtaugh wasn’t here to sweep her off her feet and carry her off to his fancy European Villa. If he had one. And Belle wouldn’t desert her father in time of need to follow some romantic whim, even if he was.

So, it all came back to now. For one more night, Belle could live the dream. Forget all the yesterdays that should have made this impossible and just have this moment. When Murtaguh left town, she’d have her memories to keep her warm. And one day, she would get over this ridiculous crush (because that had to be all it was, the possibility of anything more was too terrifying to even consider). Until then, she wasn’t about to waste another second.

Belle lifted her head to meet his gaze. She’d been quiet a little too long and he looked worried. “It’s okay. You couldn’t have known. I’m not mad. I’m just glad it’s over.” She bit her lower lip, giving him her very best bedroom eyes. “I’m also… uh, a little sticky with appletini. I was thinking maybe I could use your shower to wash off? Maybe you’d like to join me?”

A slow, sensual smile spread across his face. “I would love nothing more.”

***

They made it as far as the elevator before Murtaugh gathered her to him for a lingering kiss. She pulled him closer by the lapels of his jacket and he backed her into the wall. Memories of their first night together, and the miraculous things he could do with his mouth, flit through her head as she deepened the kiss. His free hand mapped the curve of her hip, grasping at the flesh there when she stroked the roof of his mouth with her tongue. She hitched one leg over his hip to pull him closer. He growled as he shunted his hips, his growing hardness pressing against her core. The heat pooling between her legs was reaching a fever pitch when the bell dinged and door to his floor slid open.

Luckily the hallway was deserted as they reluctantly pulled apart long enough to exit the elevator. They stopped twice more to feast on one another’s mouths. By the time his door was open, she had relieved him of his tie and half of his buttons were undone. His erection was straining against his zipper and her mouth was watering with the need to taste him.

He touched the zipper of her dress and looked at her, questioningly. She nodded enthusiastically and he pulled it down. She shoved her dress from her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor at her feet. When she was clad only in her lacy thong, stockings, and heels, Murtaugh pulled back to look at her, his eyes shining. 

“You are... simply the most stunning creature in existence.” He dropped his cane to place both hands at her waist. “And I haven’t a clue how on Earth I could be so lucky as to be here in this perfect moment with you.”

Belle flushed from her hairline to her toes. “You do have a way with words, Murtagh.”

“Tell my editor that.” He quipped.

She laughed. “If I ever meet him, I’ll be sure to do so.” She kissed him once more, gently this time. Her hands came to rest at his belt buckle and she arched one eyebrow. “I believe there was mention of a shower?”

Murtagh’s Adam’s apple bobbed and he licked his lips. “Indeed.”

Belle made short work of his trousers and underwear, brushing her hand intentionally along his hard length at every opportunity. In turn, he sat on the bed to peel away her stockings and thoroughly soaked knickers. Belle pulled him back up to his feet, a rush in her stomach at the eager, yearning look in his eye. She led him to the bathroom, making a show of bending over to adjust the water temperature.

Murtaugh grinned appreciatively, absentmindedly stroking himself.

Steam began to fog up the mirrors as they stepped into the pelting spray. For just a second, Belle was self-conscious about how her makeup might look as it began to run. But that thought was immediately chased away by Murtagh backing her into the side wall of the shower. She gave a little yelp as the tile at her back had not warmed completely. Murtaugh swallowed the sound, his tongue slipping into her mouth to tease hers. One of his large, warm hands cupped her breast and the other traced the descending water droplets from her hip to the curve of her rear. She ground her hips into his and he made a deliciously needy sound deep in his throat, fingers digging into the flesh of her arse. She cradled the back of his head with one hand and echoed his hold on her bottom with the other.

They played the kiss chase until both were panting. As they broke apart for air, he touched his forehead to hers.

“Stay here tonight?” he asked quietly, his voice rough. “I mean the whole night. With me.”

Belle swallowed, her breath coming short in a way that had nothing to do with the steam in the air. “Only if you promise no regrets in the morning.” It was half teasing, half true. Their track record thus far was brief but muddled.

He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes squarely. “My only regret would be letting you go without getting chance to make up for our first encounter. I’m stone cold sober, this time, and I want to remember every second with you.”

Belle bit her lip. Oh God, she wanted him. And not just for a night. She pushed that thought away. It would only turn her joy to melancholy if she thought about the fleeting nature of their time together.

“I’ll stay.”

Murtaugh’s face lit up and he kissed her enthusiastically. His cock throbbed against her belly and Belle felt her inner muscles clench in response. She slipped a hand between them to stroke him, thumb swiping over the head. Murtaugh groaned as he released her lips.

“Sweetheart, as much as I would very much like to have you right here and now… I’m afraid that with my leg…” He frowned slightly.

Belle brushed her lips to his. “It’s no matter.” Pushing his lightly away, she sunk to her knees. The water, still running quite hot, hit her shoulder and ran in rivulets between her breasts. The tub was slick and warm under her knees. The porcelain was too hard to stay down here long but she wanted just a little taste.

Murtaugh’s mouth fell open. “Belle… you don’t have to…” that sentence was lost in a moan as Belle took him abruptly in her mouth. That turned to inarticulate cursing as she worked him slowly, her tongue swirling the tip as she pulled back, her cheeks hollowing as she plunged forward.  

She wasn’t the most experienced of girls, but she did have unlimited access to the erotica section of the library and a lot of free time on her hands. If he wanted to make a memory she was going to make damn sure it was the best one she could give him. She had no doubt he’d return the favor.

And her theory was proven quite right as they left the shower and maneuvered themselves to the bed. Murtaugh traced stray droplets of water across her body as he licked and kissed his way down, settling between her legs. Since he claimed not to remember much of their previous encounter, Belle could only assume he was a very fast learner. Within minutes, he had her gasping out his name, clutching at his damp hair. He drove her over that edge twice, not stopping until she begged him to give her a reprieve.

While she came down from the frenzied high, he lazily mouthed her inner thighs, nipping at her hipbones and trailing kisses over each rib. Once at her breasts, he swiped his tongue along the underside of each before turning his attention to their taut peaks. Suckling and rolling them between his fingers, he alternated between breasts until Belle’s hips were bucking against the mattress.

Still teasing one nipple with his mouth, he smoothed his hand down over her pubis, manipulating her sex. He coaxed her once more to the brink before moving to kneel between her thighs. He retrieved a condom from the nightstand ( _when had he even put it there?_ ), rolling it on and looking to her questioningly.

Belle nodded. “Please.” the only word her brain could seem to recognize. She needed him in that moment more than she could ever remember needing anything else. “Please…” she breathed.

His eyes never leaving hers, he slid deeply inside her in one stroke.


	10. Just a Little Bit Longer...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reunion Prompt: Morning sex & a call from Neal asking his father how the reunion went?

Murtaugh slept more soundly than he had ever expected to – probably a result of total exhaustion. Despite a few warning twinges from his bad leg, he had more than fulfilled Belle’s needs. Belle, in turn, gave as good as she got. She was utterly delicious in every way and he couldn’t get enough of her. By the wee hours of the morning, they were quivering bundles of sweaty, sated flesh. Another shower had been called for. By the time they had toweled off, both were too depleted to even speak.

He had kissed her goodnight, lingering just long enough to say what he could not put into words. His sleep had been nearly dreamless, save a comfortable sense of warmth that pervaded his unconscious mind. He half-woke only once, to find Belle tucked against his chest. He inhaled her sweet scent and fell back asleep with a smile. If only every night could be occupied in such a manner, he thought, drifting off. If only…

This time, he dreamt of her eyes, her pale skin, her breathy sighs.

Slowly, awareness of a very pleasant sensation made its way into his dreamscape. Small, careful hands trailing his chest and thighs. The slight scratch of nails on his flanks. Soft lips tracing one nipple and then the other, making a path down through the sparse hair on his stomach. Warm breath on his abdomen, moving lower to ghost over the creases of his thighs.

Oh, and he knew, even barely awake, that he was already achingly hard.

His eyes flew open at the first touch of Belle’s wet tongue, swiping up the length of his cock. He lifted the sheet and she grinned up at him from between his legs. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he managed, his voice rough with both sleep and the instant surge of need at the glint in her eye.

She glanced down at his hardness, licking her lips. “Do you mind? You just looked so… I thought I’d surprise you.”

Murtaugh choked back a laugh. “Do I mind? No, that is not a word I’d use at this… juncture.”

Belle gave him a feisty little smile and dipped her head to flick her tongue over the head. Leaning her weight on one hand, she grasped him with the other. He watched in utter fascination as his cock throbbed in her hand. The tableau alone would be one to keep etched into his memory. She pulled back the foreskin gently, swirling her tongue around the head.

Murtaugh moaned his appreciation, fisting his free hand into the cast off blanket.

Encouraged, she engulfed him fully, letting him slide into her mouth and hollowing her cheeks. He bit his lower lip and forced himself not to thrust. Drawing back until she was suckling the tip, Belle made a low throaty noise. The slight vibration combined with her hot, wet mouth nearly undid him.

“Fuck, Belle,” he gasped.

She released him, her hand stroking slowly as she looked up. “Is that what you want?”

“God, yes,” he managed, nodding against the pillows. He had never wanted anything so badly in his life…

Belle bit her lower lip on a smile. She threw off the sheet, sitting back on her knees. After a brief scan, she spotted what she was seeking and snatched up the condom. With another flirty little look, she was crawling up the length of his body.

He had a brief thought that perhaps he ought to have excused himself to brush his teeth. But it was gone the instant she stole his breath in a kiss. Letting his worry fall away, he wrapped both arms around her, pulling her close. She straddled his hips, grinding against the hard length of him. She was molten, dripping and scorching against his sensitive flesh. He felt the tip prod at her entrance, nearly slipping inside and they both groaned simultaneously.

She sat up, flushed and panting. “Sorry… I’m not usually like this.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “Like what?”

She glanced away and back. “I don’t know. Wanton? Needy?”

He blinked up at her. “Sweetheart, you never ever have to apologize to a man for wanting sex. Believe me, most of us would give several very important body parts just to be allowed the view I’m currently enjoying.”

Her flush deepened, spreading across her pert breasts in a way he found entirely satisfactory to watch.

“Let alone,” he continued, “spending a night making love to you. Not to mention waking up to your sweet, lovely mouth. Belle, if I didn’t know better, I’d think I had died on the plane over and somehow – against all odds – made it to paradise.”

She gave an undignified little squeak and fell forward, pressing her lips fervently to his. They kissed deeply, Belle’s hips still maddeningly active against his. At length, she withdrew long enough to roll on the condom, raising herself up to sink down his length.

He let her set the pace, rocking herself forward and back with him buried inside her. She found an angle she seemed to particularly like, driving herself down, down, down, as he hit that spot within. Until he felt her inner muscles clenching and fluttering. Her body shuddered as a cry escaped her lips. He’d have been happy to just watch her bring herself off on his cock. But, as she was riding through hers, his own climax hit him swiftly, nearly by surprise. She slumped forward against his chest, breathing hard. He held her, thrusting shallowly through the aftershocks.

Once their racing hearts had calmed, she rolled to the side. He pulled off the condom and disposed of it before tucking her back against him. From where her head rest on his chest, he could feel her eyelashes moving.

“It’s after noon.” She said, at last.

“Aye. I hope I’m not keeping you from… more pressing matters.”

She laughed, swatting playfully at him. He caught her hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss each fingertip. She gave a little purr of contentment. “No, I mean, if you don’t check out soon, they’re gonna charge you for an extra day.” She sighed. “We should probably get dressed.”

He swallowed. “Um. I already asked to extend my stay, last night.” He glanced worriedly at the top of her head. “I hope you don’t think that was… presumptuous.”

He felt her mouth curve into a smile. “Maybe a little. And yet, I can’t seem to mind.”

He released the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Well, in that case, would you like to order up some breakfast?”

***

They were halfway through a monstrous plate of eggs Benedict when Murtaugh heard his mobile buzz. Seeing his son’s name on the screen, he excused himself to the bathroom to take it.

“Hey Pop, I thought you’d be texting me about plane crash statistics by now. You okay?” He could hear the smile in Neal’s voice, alongside a hint of nervous energy.

“I’m fine,” he reassured his son. He hesitated, wondering how much of his remarkable weekend would be appropriate to disclose. He and Neal had grown close again over the last few years. As a child, Neal had been inseparable from his father. They had drifted apart around the time Milah left, Neal blaming him for not keeping her happy enough to stay. As Neal got older, he could finally understand that his parents’ marriage had never really been a happy one. After all the madness and the fighting, after bailing Neal out of a jail cell and standing by him when his fiancée left, their bond was now stronger than ever. But no son wanted to hear about his father getting laid, right?

And yet… Belle wasn’t some weekend conquest. Oh, he could try to tell himself that he’d head out of town with a spring in his step and smile in his heart and only think of her again through the misty fondness of memory. But he was striving not to delude himself, these days. Leaving her, even after so short a time as they'd had so far, would hurt like hell. Some ridiculous romantic part of his mind wandered to the big Victorian house he had been renting out until recently. The previous occupant had painted it a glaring shade of salmon, but it was a very livable house. Elegant and roomy. Much too roomy for a single man, but perhaps a cozy nest for two.

He squeezed his eyes shut, running one hand over his face. Bloody idiot. Two or three acts of sexual congress, a mischievous pair of sapphire blue eyes and he was ready to fucking well propose. To be sure, Belle had enjoyed his company for a few days. He doubted this pattern would continue were he to stick around. Neal was the only person he knew who still loved him, even upon better acquaintance. Even still, he was in no hurry to part from her, just yet. Not while she would have him.

“Uh, Pop? You there?”

Murtaugh realized he had gotten lost in his own muddled thoughts and gone quiet too long. “Yes. Sorry. Wool gathering.” His eyes flicked to the door. Belle was waiting for him on the other side. For how long, he hadn’t a clue. But perhaps he might at least attempt to find out. “Neal, I.. I think I might stay in town a bit longer, actually.”

“Okay… but you do have an appearance in Cincinnati next week. And I’m working on getting you that signing at the convention in Manhattan. A couple other big names are on the list. Would be great publicity for the new book. Speaking of which, Gina’s been calling. They need you to approve the final draft.”

Murtaugh could hear Neal slip into business mode and felt his heart swell with pride. He’d been letting his son take on more and more of the business side of things, lately. The boy was really stepping up to the plate. “Understood. Could you ask her to email it to me? And I can always fly to Cincinnati from here.”

“Wow, must be some big fish you’ve caught back in Maine. What kind of deal is it? I can always fly in if you need some help with the paperwork.”

Murtaugh bit back a chuckle. “No, nothing like that. I’m, uh, not staying on business.”

There was a shuffling noise. “Really? What else would you…" A pause. "Oh my God… is it… did you actually meet someone? Like, a real flesh and blood woman? Or man. You can tell me, either way. I’m a progressive kinda guy.”

Murtaugh did laugh, at that. “Yes, I’m aware. And, uh, yes. There might be… someone. I’m not sure I’m ready to discuss this just yet. But… she is in the next room.”

Neal gave a triumphant whoop. “Good going old man! But what the hell are you doing still talking to me? I’ll take care of the business shit. Email me later?”

“Thanks, son.”

“Love ya’, Poppa.”

Murtaugh smiled. “Love you too.”


	11. A Better Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 1: The Reunion prompt: Gold & Belle run into Ruby in the hotel. Ruby of course gives them a hard time ;)
> 
> Prompt 2: Reunion!Belle: Have you told your former teacher about your schoolgirl fantasies? Gold: Have you planned on fulfilling any of those fantasies? ;)

 

Once breakfast had been consumed and clothing reassembled, Belle turned to Murtagh, feeling oddly shy. “So….”

His throat worked silently. “So.”

She shifted on her bare feet. Last night’s dress had dried enough to throw back on for the trip back to her own room, but the heels would just have to be carried. Her feet still ached from their artfully exaggerated arch. They'd been worth it though - if only for the way Murtaugh had looked at her legs. 

Gold licked his lips. “I, uh, have some time to kill today so I thought I might… spend some time in town. Check out a few old haunts.”

“Oh. Yeah, that, uh, that sounds like a good plan. Any old friends to drop in on?” Belle wanted to sink into the ground. All she had to do was ask him if he wanted company, but the words were stuck on her tongue. Without pumping music or stalker melodrama, her bravado seemed to fade away. 

Gold frowned. “Not really.  Maybe Mal. We weren't exactly friends but… there was a mutual respect there, as colleagues.”

“She's vice principal, you know. They offered her principal when Cole retired but she said that was too much responsibility.” 

Gold grinned, picturing the tall blonde dismissing the offer with a careless wave of the hand. “Yeah, that sounds like Mal. I should stop by the school and surprise her.”

“Well you can't do that today.”

He cocked his head. “Why not?”

Belle chuckled, crossing her arms and leaning one hip against the nearest wall. “Because it's Sunday, for starters.”

Gold gave a snort of laughter, running one hand down his face. “Fuck me, so it is.”

“I mean, if you miss the school that much, I could still let you go visit… I have a master key to the building.” Belle added, teasingly. 

Gold’s brows rose. “Oh? How… oddly trusting of the administration.”

Belle’s mouth twisted in a rueful half-smile. “The whole town trusts me, Murtaugh. I’ve alway been the ‘good girl’ around here.” 

He stepped closer, closing the distance between them and sliding one hand around her waist. “Is that so?”

That spark of desire relit with nearly frightening immediacy. She swallowed hard, discretely pressing her thighs together. “Oh yes, I’ve worked pretty hard for the reputation.”

Gold nodded, a smile playing over his mouth. “I do seem to recall you being very well behaved…” As though to belie the recollection, his hand slipped down to grasp her arse. 

“Mm, well in your case, I may have had an ulterior motive,” she admitted airily, leaning into him. “Besides, if you could have seen inside my head, you definitely wouldn’t have used the the word ‘good’ to describe me.”

Gold’s eyebrow quirked upward. “Why, Miss French! I had no idea….”

“Back then? Or do you mean now? Because maybe I haven’t made myself clear enough,” she murmured, pushing up on her toes to catch his lips with hers. 

“Mm I didn’t quite catch that,” he breathed as they pulled apart. “Tell me again?” 

Belle kissed him harder, her hands snaking into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. He made a low sound at the back of his throat, his tongue sliding against hers and his free hand holding her fast against him, splayed at her lower back.

Emboldened by the heady rush of desire, Belle kissed her way across his jaw to whisper in one ear. “I used to imagine us just like this... I’d stay after class to ask you a question and we’d brush hands while looking at my work or turning the pages of a book. We’d lock eyes and the heat between us would be searing. Unbearable. You’d tell me I was irresistible.” 

Murtaugh’s mouth moved to her neck, planting open mouthed kisses down its length. His breath was hot on her sensitive skin as he murmured “You are…” 

Belle nearly purred with satisfaction, a pleasant shiver running down her spine. “You’d kiss me tenderly at first, then harder as our passion grew.” She heard his cane fall away as he began to hitch up her skirt. “We’d know it was wrong but we wouldn’t be able to stop… Oh!” She gasped as she felt him skim the apex of her legs through her sodden underwear. Her legs parted automatically to allow him access.

“Go on,” Murtaugh prompted, his voice rough and breathless. Two questing fingers insinuated themselves into her panties, gently stroking her gathering wetness. 

“You’d back me up against the desk and… and touch me… just like this,” Belle panted as his skilled digits circled her clit. She reached for his cock but he shook his head. 

“This is just for you, Belle. I just want to feel you come.” The tip of one finger teased at her entrance, finding her more than ready, and slid home.

Belle groaned, her knees turning to jelly as she kissed him again. He fucked her mouth slowly and deeply with his tongue as his fingers echoed the action between her legs. Belle clung to him like a life raft in a storm as her pleasure spiraled up, up, up. His thumb flicked over her little nub once, twice, and she was over the edge, heat radiating from her core, down her shaking legs and curling her still-sore toes. With a throaty cry, she nearly collapsed against him.

One of Murtaugh’s hands shot out toward the wall to steady them both. The other he withdrew from her with obvious reluctance.  

“Sorry…” Belle blurted, working hard to find her balance with her tingling limbs. 

Murtaugh chuckled. “Oh sweetheart, never apologize for that.” He brought his fingers, shiny with her juices, to his mouth and gave them a very deliberate suck. His eyes fell closed as he inhaled deeply, removing his fingers from his mouth. “You are so exquisite.” His eyes reopened. 

Belle’s mouth went dry, her body still quaking from the unexpected orgasm. This man was fantasy incarnate and damned if she wasn’t going to enjoy every last second they had left together. She swallowed around the particularly naughty thought that occurred to her. Could they? Would he? It was downright audacious and if she got caught… well, she’d deal with that if it happened.

She cleared her throat, smoothing her skirt back down her thighs. “You know… I, uh, I really do have access to the school. Keys and security code. Even… your old classroom.” 

Murtaugh’s brows raised, his face otherwise unreadable, but he said nothing

Belle bit her lower lip. “Is that, um, going too far?” 

He seemed to consider this, mouth pursing and gaze shifting away from her face to go slightly unfocused. “Will it make you happy?” 

No need for pretense; she’d already admitted one dirty fantasy today and he’d been perfectly amenable to that. She nodded. “Very. You?”

He met her eyes again with a crooked smile. “It… wouldn’t make me unhappy.” 

***

They agreed to meet in the lobby after Belle changed clothes and checked out of her own room. She was friendly with the hotel staff but that only bought her so much leeway before they had to follow policy. 

Gold was there when she arrived, deep in conversation on his cell phone.

He covered the speaker to greet her with a lingering kiss. “So sorry, sweetheart. Editing issues. I’m trying to be rid of them as fast as possible.” 

Belle waved her hands in front of her. “No, no it’s fine. I’ll be here.”

The corners of his mouth curled upward, his gaze warm and lingering as it swept over her face and down her torso. “You look so beautiful.” 

Belle felt her cheeks heat and she smoothed both hands down the front of her pleated skirt. She’d thrown on the only other outfit in her room, the one she’d worn to work before checking into the hotel. “It’s no cocktail dress covered in appletini but I hoped this would do.” 

“It’s perfect.” His smile widened and he winked as he returned the phone to his ear. “Aye, I’m listening. Of course I am. No, tell them I won’t cut that part. Because if I do, it ruins the entire timeline. Or hadn’t they noticed? Bloody amateurs.” With an apologetic look, he strode away toward a more secluded hallway.

Belle was just pulling out her phone to start a new puzzle game when she heard a throat clear behind her. She turned. 

“Do my eyes deceive me or was that Mr. “I don’t bang students” Gold kissing you good morning just now?” Ruby planted both hands firmly on her hips. She was unabashedly dressed in her attire from the night before, face scrubbed clean of makeup save her signature red lipstick, her slightly damp hair pulled back in a ponytail. 

Belle tilted her head. She didn’t remember Ruby getting particularly friendly with anyone last night but she’d clearly also spent the night at the hotel. Billy lived in town and couldn’t have afforded a room. Besides, they were back to just friends again, last Belle had heard. “You didn’t pass out at the table last night, did you? Granny will have a fit…” she teased. 

“Ha ha ha. I assume you’re just a little cranky after getting not single wink of sleep…” The tip of Ruby’s tongue protruded from between her teeth as she grinned lasciviously. 

Belle’s mouth twisted to hide her answering grin. She pointed to Ruby “Pot” then to herself “Kettle.” 

Ruby shrugged dismissively. “I call it a Walk of Triumph.” She tipped her head up, proudly. 

Belle giggled."That good?” 

“I’m a changed woman, Bells.” 

“Wow. Can I ask who?”

Ruby’s cheeks flushed. “I’ll uh, catch you up later. I gotta head back into town and change before You Know Who notices I didn’t come home.” 

“Hey, would you mind just taking my overnight bag with you for now? I’m going to be out with Murtaugh and I already checked out of my room. I promise I’ll come pick it up asap.” Belle held out the handle of her small rolling suitcase. She’d bought it in hopes of planning a sumptuous European vacation but so far, this was the most use it had seen. 

“Oooh like a real date?”

Belle’s face was hot, her stomach flipping. “Something like that. Or at least, I think so.”

“Oh. Em. Gee. Okay, we’re definitely gonna talk later. I’ll drop the suitcase in my room and you can swing by when Lover Boy is busy or something. He does sleep, right?”

Belle rolled her eyes in reply and raised on tiptoes to kiss Ruby’s cheek as the taller girl took the suitcase handle. “You’re the best. And I look forward to hearing about your Mystery Date.” 

Ruby flushed again, giving a little shimmy as she turned away, heading toward the exit with a quick wave over one shoulder. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” 

“Doesn’t rule much out,” Belle called after her. 

Ruby’s laughter echoed through the lobby. A few minutes later, Gold had returned to Belle’s side, phone tucked away from sight. 

He crooked his free elbow toward her. “Shall we?” 

Belle took it with a flourish and they head out into the sunny day. 


End file.
